


marian and robin

by AlmondRose



Category: Original Work, Robin Hood - All Media Types
Genre: :///, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, im making stuff up as i go, mostly original - Freeform, not based on anything in particular, uhhhhh it's gay though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-14 18:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14141595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: marian is supposed to marry the sheriff.it doesn't really work out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is mostly my own interpretation but it definitely takes inspiration from a comic (merry men) and a play, although idk if that inspiration will shine through that much. anyway i hope y'all enjoy! :D

Marian is supposed to be marrying the sheriff, which sounds positively dreadful, but she’s hopeful that maybe he’ll fall in love with her and then she can convince him to be less uptight about the taxes, and maybe even convince Prince John--depending on how close the sheriff and the prince actually are--to eliminate taxes entirely. Maybe. 

 

That seems like a stretch, though, even for Marian, but she’s hopeful and stubborn so she takes her horse and a pair of her father’s guards and travels through the forest, determined to make the best of this marriage.

 

“Miss?” one of the guards asks, and Marian tosses her hair over her shoulder to fix the guard with a scowl. 

 

“What?” she asks. 

 

“Maybe we should slow down,” he says. “I hear these woods are crawlin’ with bandits.”

 

“All the more reason to speed up,” Marian says, talking slowly as if to an imbecile. “So we can get out of the woods and to Nottingham faster.”

 

“Oh,” the guard says, and his companion wacks him upside the head.

 

“Common sense, you dunce,” the second guard hisses, and Marian wishes she had learned their names but it’s far too late to ask for them now. 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Marian says. “Let’s just keep going and hope we don’t run into bears or bandits.”

 

“Excellent idea,” the second guard says, riding forward to lead the party. Marian’s not sure if she should be greatful or annoyed. 

 

“Are there really bears in this part of the woods?” the first guard asks in a whisper to Marian. She shrugs. 

 

“I’ve no earthly idea,” she says. “But it seems practical to watch out for them, just in case.”

 

“I suppose,” the guard says. He casts an uneasy look around. “I’m not looking forward to returning through these woods.”

 

“They are rather unpleasant,” Marian concedes, looking around. The trees seem to close in on her, and grow so tightly together that Marian can hardly see the path ahead of her. She can see why outlaws choose to roam this forest. 

 

Marian’s actually glad, for a moment, that after she moves to Nottingham it’s likely she’ll never leave, as these woods surround the town. 

 

“How much further, do you suppose?” Marian calls ahead to the other guard, who turns to look back and calls, “Not much, I suspect!”

 

Marian prays that he knows what he’s talking about.

 

The guard ahead of her stops abruptly, and Marian draws her horse to a near-stop and moves up next to the guard to see why he stopped. She blinks down at the cloaked figure on the ground below them. 

 

“We are traveling on orders of the sheriff and demand to be let by,” the first guard says. “Move aside or be moved.”

 

“Please, sir, can you help me?” the cloaked figure says, their voice just androgynous enough that Marian can’t tell what gender they are. 

 

“Help with what?” Marian asks, and the figure turns to face her. She can’t see their face behind the folds of the cloak, though.

 

“I have no money,” the figure says. “I’m starving, and poor, and I would so love to have some money.”

 

“We cannot help you,” the guard says. “We don’t give money to panhandlers. Come on, Lady. We should be going.”

 

“Right,” Marian says, and the guard barrels forward and the figure steps aside and Marian follows the guard with the other one behind her, but she can’t help but look at the cloaked figure as they pass. When the second guard passes the figure, they straighten and say, “Well, I was  _ going _ to do this the easy way, but the fun way it is, then,” and then all hell breaks loose. 


	2. Chapter 2

Marian’s not even sure what happens. One second, she’s watching the figure, and the next, there’s screams and shouts and horse neighs and--is that a fiddle?--and the figure is gone. Marian whips her head around to see a small, lithe teen perched on top of one of the guard’s horse, holding a knife to the guard. On the other side, the guard’s been upturned from his horse and a massive man that reminds Marian of a bear sits on the horse instead. 

 

The guard that’s upturned from his horse has a sword pointed at him by another man on the ground, and two other men are rooting through the saddle bags. 

 

“Are you Marian?” a voice asks, and Marian turns to her other side to see a blonde man pointing a sword at her. 

 

“Why?” she asks, and he says, “We can’t allow the sheriff’s bride to miss her wedding, you see. Otherwise we’ll be blamed for the murder.”

 

“You’d--you’d murder me?”

 

“Are you Marian?” the man asks, and Marian freezes, afraid of giving the wrong answer. 

 

“Who are you?” she asks instead, and the man grins. 

 

“I’m just an outlaw,” he says, and Marian looks around at the other outlaws. She still thinks she can hear a fiddle. 

 

“You’re a very good outlaw,” she says. “You robbed us before I even knew what was happening.”

 

“Thank you,” he says. 

 

“You’re welcome.” Then Marian makes a choice and throws her previous plan, the one about marrying the sheriff and seducing him into being a decent human being, out the window. “May I come with you?”

 

“What?” the outlaw asks, his mouth falling open. 

 

“May I come with you?” she asks. “Maybe I could, um, clean your house? Or something? I really think that pretending to be dead might be my best option at this point.”

 

“So you  _ are  _ Marian,” the outlaw says, then he shrugs. “Let me confer with my men.”

 

He whistles and the various outlaws surround him; a man slides from the trees above, holding a fiddle in one hand. Marian had been right about the fiddle after all. 

 

The outlaws huddle together and whisper and Marian counts them. Seven total, all men, of varying sizes and shapes. 

 

Marian looks over to the guards, who look bewildered. 

 

“Are you two okay?” she asks, and the guards exchange a glance. 

 

“I’m devising a plan,” the second guard whispers loudly. “To escape.” 

 

“Right,” Marian says, and she wonders how she’s supposed to get rid of the guards if she’s to go with the outlaws. 

 

That question is answered when someone grabs her from behind and Marian shrieks. Both guards draw their swords and Marian realizes that the hulking man from before is holding her now. 

 

“We’ll be taking the lady,” the outlaw Marian’d been talking to before declares. “She’ll be dead by morning.” 

 

And with that, the outlaws turn and run away, carrying Marian with them. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Marian tries to remember landmarks, so she can make her way back to the path if need be, but they go so fast and take such an odd path that she can’t keep track.

 

When she gives up on trying to remember how to get back to the path, she ponders the decision she just made. Is she going to be killed? Raped? What shall her future be?

 

The man holding her slows and drops her; they’re in a clearing with clear signs of camp, with a fire and places to sit around it. Marian stumbles away from the men, most of whom fan out and make themselves at home.

 

The man Marian’d talked to before stands before her with his arms crossed.

 

“Here we are,” he says. “I’m not sure why you’d want to see our camp; to sell us out to the sheriff, perhaps?”

 

“I have no alignment with the sheriff,” Marian says, lifting her head up and hoping she has some amount of dignity in this man’s eyes.

 

“Except that you’re to be married to him,” the outlaw says, and Marian huffs.

 

“Not by choice,” she says. “I think he’s vile and cruel. And I tire of calling you merely ‘the outlaw’ in my mind. You know my name, so it is only fair that you reveal your own.”

 

“Oh, have you not yet figured it out?” the outlaw says, raising his eyebrow. Marian shakes her head, a sinking feeling developing in her chest. “Why, I’m Robin Hood, and these are my Merry Men.”

 

Oh God above.  

 

The outlaws Marian has thrown herself in with are the best robbers in Nottingham. They’ve been known to corrupt the religious, and the innocent, and have the highest of rewards on their heads. Marian’s fiance has a personal vendetta against the leader, Robin Hood, who Marian is talking to now. And there are rumors of--of _relations_ between these men.

 

She takes an unconscious step back.

“You should’ve lied,” the man with the fiddle says, walking behind Robin.

 

“I try not to,” Robin says. “Especially to kidnap victims. I like my accomplishments to be known, when they happen.”

 

“Yeah, but that’s the sheriff’s girl,” another man says. “And now she’s been to our camp.”

 

“I don’t plan on seeing the sheriff ever again, so your secrecy should be fine. Although I _should_ turn you in.”

 

“Why?” Robin asks. “You seemed to be fine with outlaws before you knew it was us.”

 

“Because--because it’s _you._ If I’m to--to run away from England and never return, I could use reward money.”

 

“Turning us in and getting a reward is the best way to tell the sheriff exactly where you are,” the giant man points out.

 

“Good point,” Robin says. Marian wants to scream, but she also doesn’t want to embarrass herself, so she crosses her arms and looks around.

 

“Do these Merry Men have names?” she asks, and Robin says, “Glad you asked! That’s the best way to humanize us, names. That’s Little John,”--he points to the big man--”over there is David,"--the teen--"and Alan-a-Dale,"--the one with the fiddle--"and Arthur-a-Bland, and Will Scarlet,"--another teen--"and Will Stutley.”

 

“Those names are all so ordinary,” Marian says before she can think of her own words. The men laugh and Marian feels an angry blush rise to her cheeks.

 

“We’re human, just like you are,” David says.

 

“Outlaws have mothers, too,” Arthur-a-Bland says.

 

“I suppose,” Marian says, crossing her arms. “Anyway, what do you plan to do with me? Murder me?”

 

“No,” Robin says. “I don’t really like murdering people, to be honest. I thought you said you’d clean.”

 

“I mean--I did--but I thought that you weren’t going to let me.”

 

“And why not?” Robin asks. “You said you would, so you should. We need a womanly touch around here.”

 

“We do?” David asks, and Will Scarlet wacks him upside the head. Marian giggles despite herself.

 

“Fine,” she says. “You’ll let me stay, and not kill me or rape me?”

 

The men all exchange glances.

 

“Why would we want to rape you?” Robin asks, looking bewildered.

 

“I mean--I’m a woman, and you’re all men, and wouldn’t it be--the sort of manly thing to bed your nemesis’s bride-to-be?”

 

Robin and Little John exchange a glance and Marian doesn’t know what to think. Relieved, probably, that they don’t seem to want to bed her. Offended, maybe, that they don’t want to bed her. Afraid, perhaps, because maybe they _are_ all in relations with men.

 

“No,” Robin says after a minute. “No, we won’t be doing that.”

 

“Good,” Marian says, gathering up her dignity and hiking up her skirts. “Excellent. Where do you all sleep?”

 

Robin points up, and Marian follows his finger to the trees, where there are little houses.

 

“Ah,” she says, her heart sinking. “The trees.”

 

Marian reminds herself that she signed up for this, and she stands awkwardly in the middle of camp, and watches the Merry Men bustle around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright! i have chapter four done & will post it once i finish chapter 5, and will post 5 when i finish 6 and so on and so forth. idk how consistent or fast i'll update (or how long the finished bit will be) but i'll try and update fairly regularly!


	4. Chapter 4

 

“This’ll be your tree, miss,” David says, climbing up the ladder like a money while Marian follows slowly behind. She pulls herself into the shelter and looks around. There’s some quilts on the ground and a cot pushed to the side of the bed. 

 

“Who...usually sleeps here?” Marian asks, afraid to stand up in case her weight combined with David’s will cause the whole shelter to tip over.

 

“Friar Tuck, when he stays here,” David says. “But you and him can share! And you mustn’t worry about getting bedded. He is a man of religion, after all.”

 

“Great,” Marian says, scooting away from the hole on the ground and clutching at her knees. “I’m to live in a tree with a friar.”

 

“It’s not so bad, miss,” David says, walking around the shelter. “I’ve been out here for quite some time and you get used to it. Sure will be strange having a woman around, though.”

 

“Does Robin expect me to clean the shelters?” Marian asks. “There’s not exactly anywhere to sweep the floors.”

 

“We don’t really need cleaning,” David says, scratching the back of his head. “I expect Robin brought you here for a lark. Or maybe to spite the sheriff.”

 

“Ah,” Marian says. “Lovely.”

 

“Do you love him?” David asks suddenly. “The sheriff, I mean.”

 

“No,” Marian says. “He’s unpleasant and I don’t like him at all. He can be charming, when he wants, but I’ve seen how he acts around peasants, and commoners, and I don’t want any part of that.”

 

“Well then, you should get along with us just fine,” David says, and he slides to the hole on the ground. “You don’t got anything to worry about, miss.”

 

And with that, he shimmies down the ladder. Marian clutches her knees tighter and suspects she has a great deal to worry about.

 

After a minute alone, she braves the ladder again and climbs down, cursing her dress. She flops to the ground, rather ungainly-like, and huffs, grateful to be back on solid ground. 

 

“Would you be opposed to trousers?” a voice asks, and Marian turns. Arthur-a-Bland is standing behind her, looking thoughtful. 

 

“Not….necessarily,” Marian says, and Arthur nods, walking away. Marian looks around helplessly. 

 

“Need help?” Alan-a-Dale asks, sidling up to her. He has a lute strapped to his back and Marian wonders what happened to his fiddle. 

 

“I’m just not certain as to what I’m supposed to...do,” Marian says. 

 

“Do what the rest of us do,” he says. “Hunt or sing or dance or rob a stagecoach. Visit the children in Nottingham or cook us dinner--wait, don’t do that, Little John might get offended--or learn to play the flute.”

 

“Is there a flute I could learn?” Marian asks, mostly out of curiosity. Alan reaches into a pouch tied to his waist and hands her one part of a flute, then the two others. “Right.” 

 

“Keep it,” Alan says as if bestowing upon her a magnificent gift. 

 

“Okay,” Marian says, looking at the three pieces of the flute. She has no earthly idea how to put it together, let alone play it. 

 

Alan pats her shoulder and walks away; Marian doesn’t feel any better. 

 

She walks over to the fire and sits, putting the flute pieces on her lap. Will Stutley hands her a bowl of the food that’s boiling over the fire; it looks thoroughly unappetizing but this is Marian’s life now. She takes a bite and she doesn’t know what it is but it’s not that bad; Marian supposes she’ll get used to it. 

 

“Is it good?” Little John asks from behind her and Marian jumps, twisting to look at him and holding a hand on the flute pieces on her lap. 

 

Little John looms over her, and Marian isn’t short. At first he had frightened her, a little, but upon second inspection, his face is gentle and he seems kind. 

 

“It’s alright,” Marian answers belatedly. 

 

Little John’s face breaks out in a grin and Marian flushes. 

 

“This here’s a woman with taste,” Little John says, clapping her on the shoulder and startling her. 

 

“Come on, Johnny, don’t scare the lass,” Robin says, walking around from behind Little John. “Marian, do you have any idea what to do with that flute?”

 

Marian shakes her head and Robin picks up the pieces and puts them together, then hands the instrument back to her. 

 

“There, now it’s easier to carry,” Robin says. 

 

“Thank you,” Marian says. She puts the flute back on her lap. “David said that there wouldn’t actually be much to clean, so--what am I to do, here?”

 

“Whatever you want,” Robin says, shrugging. 

 

“That’s not very helpful,” Marian grumbles, turning back to face the fire. 

 

She’s never been allowed to do whatever she wants before; Marian hardly knows what she  _ does  _ want to do. 

 

She takes a bite of her food and resolves to figure it out.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

“Teach me to play this,” Marian says, holding the flute out to Alan-a-Dale.

 

“Really?” he asks, eyes wide. 

 

“Yes,” she says. “If I’m to own it I might as well know how to use it.”

 

“Excellent!” Alan says, leaping to his feet. “Maybe you and I could work out a duet.”

 

“Let’s focus on me knowing how to put it together, first,” Marian says, and Alan says, “Of course. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

 

Alan takes the flute apart and tells her how to put it together, then he shows her the first few notes and she imitates him, amazed that she can create sound out of it. 

 

“Music is magical, yes?” Alan asks. 

 

“Yes,” Marian says. “I’ve never noticed until now.”

 

“People don’t often notice,” Alan says. He plucks at his lute idly. “But you did, huh? Maybe you and I should make some magic together.”

 

Marian’s cheeks grow red and she takes a step back, stammering and bumping into someone.

 

“Hello, miss!” David says cheerfully. “Robin wanted to know if you wanted to come to the village with me and him and Will Scarlet.” 

 

“Sure,” Marian says, her face still red from Alan’s comment. She follows David, and doesn’t look back at Alan. 

 

“Why are we going to the village?” Marian asks when she and David join Will Scarlet and Robin. 

 

“To get rid of the loot we took from your party,” Robin says, and Will looks Marian up and down. 

 

“Here,” he says, handing her a cloak. She puts it on, then Will hands her a bag. “For your flute.”

 

“Thank you,” Marian says, and she puts the flute in the bag and draws her hood over her head. Robin leads the group out into the trees and they walk for not long at all before they’ve reached the edge of Nottingham. Marian realizes, almost too late, that she could be seen, and she stops in her tracks. 

 

“Everything okay?” Robin asks, turning back to face her. 

 

“Won’t someone recognize me?” Marian asks. “What if we see the sheriff?”

 

“He won’t expect to see you here with us,” Will says. 

 

“Besides, we never see the sheriff. He doesn’t go into the poor places ‘cept on tax days,” David adds, and Robin nods. 

 

“Fine,” Marian says. Then, because she has to throw in her lot with someone, and it might as well be with Robin Hood, she says, “I trust you.”

 

Robin blinks at her, and Will rolls his eyes. 

 

“Let’s go,” he says, and he marches out into the town. 

 

Marian and Robin and David hurry after him. 

 

“What, exactly, are we doing?”

 

“Delivering the money and clothes to the friar and taking the food to the tavern,” Robin says. “Then taking whatever exchange from the tavern to the orphanage.”

 

“Oh,” Marian says, and then they stop walking outside a church. Robin and the others head around the side of the church and Marian follows. They stop at a side door and Robin taps a rhythm into the door. 

 

The door opens and a round man in brown robes is on the other side of the door. 

 

“Come in, come in,” he says, and ushers them inside. 

 

“We robbed a traveling party,” David says once they’re inside. “And we stole clothes, money, food, and the sheriff’s bride.”

 

Marian waves awkwardly and the friar looks between her and the men. 

 

“Oh, Robin,” he sighs. “What will we do with you?”

 

“Nothing?” Robin tries, and the friar laughs, shaking his head. 

 

“Give me what you brought for me,” he says. “The people need it.”

 

“I know,” Robin says. “David?”

 

David shrugs off his bag and hands it to the friar, who opens it and inspects the contents. 

 

“Bless you, Robin Hood,” he says, and Robin and David and Will beam. Marian feels like she’s intruding on something, and she draws her cloak tighter around her. 

 

Will saunters over to her. 

 

“I didn’t know you guys did this kind of thing,” Marian whispers. “I thought you robbed for your own gain.”

 

“Nah,” Will says. “We rob ‘cause we want to help.”

 

“Why don’t you live in Nottingham, if you’re so involved?”

 

“Can’t,” Will says, shrugging. “We’ve been banned. The forest also gives us a bit of allure, if you know what I mean.”

 

“I guess,” Marian says, and she burns to ask why they’ve been banned, but she’s afraid she won’t like the answer. 

 

“Come on, men,” Robin says, clapping Marian and Will on the shoulders as he passes. Marian wants to protest, as she’s not a man, but she says nothing and follows them out. 

  
  
  
  


While they were inside, it started to rain. Marian’s glad for her hood as they head across the town to a tavern on the edge of the town’s borders. This time, they go in the front doors. 

 

“Hello and welcome to the Dusty Duckling tavern!” the lone barmaid chirps cheerfully from where she’s sweeping the floor, and Robin takes his hood off. 

 

“Oh, Meg, that’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?” he asks, and Meg whirls around to face them properly, knocking into a chair with her broom as she turns. 

 

“Robin!” she says, and she rushes over to hug him. Marian wonders if they have a  _ history,  _ but then Meg hugs Will and David with the same enthusiasm, and she decides they probably don’t. 

 

“Meg, this is Marian. Marian, Meg,” Robin introduces, and Marian nods at the other girl. Meg whistles. 

 

“Where’d you pick up a genuine lady?” she asks, perching herself on top of a table. 

 

“Found her wandering about in the forest,” Robin says, grinning. 

 

“Only you,” Meg says, shaking her head and smiling. “So are you here to employ her to the tavern?”

 

“Nah, she’s staying with us,” Robin says. 

 

“Ooh, a Merry  _ Woman,”  _ Meg says, and Robin says, “Now don’t make assumptions, Meg.” 

 

Meg rolls her eyes, swinging her legs and Marian’s certain she’s missed something. Before she can ask, what, exactly, she’s missing, Robin says, “Anyway, we came here to drop off what we stole from Marian’s party.”

 

Marian curtseys when Meg looks at her with her jaw dropped, and tries not to smirk, then when she looks around at the empty tavern she realizes that Will and David have vanished. 

 

“Where’d Will and David go?” Marian asks, and Meg says, “They’re probably in the back taking their sweet sweet time, if you know what I mean,” and Marian does  _ not  _ know what she means, and Robin smacks Meg’s arm, and she laughs. 

 

Meg hops off of the table and flounces to the back, banging her hand on the door and shouting, “Hurry it up back there!”

 

David and Will come out of the back, David’s face bright red. 

 

“We weren’t doing anything!” David says hurriedly, and Will says, “I  _ wish  _ we were.” 

 

David’s face turns impossibly brighter and something begins to churn in Marian’s stomach. She has a suspicion about what everyone keeps dropping hints about, but it  _ can’t  _ be true. Nobody could be banned from the town for--for  _ that-- _ and make  _ jokes  _ about it. 

 

She shifts uncomfortably and Meg laughs and says, “I should probably count up  _ whatever  _ Doncaster and Scarlet dropped off back there so I can tell Clarke about it when he comes back.”

 

“And that’s our cue to be off,” Robin says. “Lovely as ever, Meg.”

 

“I’d be flattered if you weren’t taken,” Meg says, rolling her eyes, and she disappears into the back with a cheery “Ta!”

 

“We’ll come back for exchange in the morning,” Robin says. “Let’s go back to camp.”

 

They leave the tavern from a back door, waving goodbye at Meg from the inventory and heading back into the trees, slipping in and vanishing in Sherwood, as if they’d never been in Nottingham at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: the next chapter is the first Really Super Gay chapter i hope y'all are ready


	6. Chapter 6

They get back to camp and Marian eats quickly before heading up into her tree. 

 

Robin watches her go.

 

After she vanishes into the trees, Robin sighs and turns back to his own food.

 

_ What have I gotten myself into?  _ he wonders, and Little John sits next to him. Without much thought, Robin leans on his shoulder, chewing carefully. 

 

“How do you think she’ll react when she finds out?” David asks, his voice nervous. Robin looks over at him from across the fire. David is scrunched up and afraid afraid afraid, and Robin wishes that David didn’t have to feel that fear. 

 

“I don’t know,” Robin says. “But if she reacts poorly, we’ll just...ask her to leave.”

 

“And marry the sheriff,” Will Stutley says. “And tell him where we are, and get us all killed. Robin, are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

 

“I don’t know,” Alan-a-Dale says. “Maybe she’s the same way. I mean, she freaked out when I flirted with her.”

 

“Maybe that’s because your flirting is terrible,” Little John says, and Robin can’t see it but he knows that John is raising an eyebrow at him. 

 

“Impossible,” Alan-a-Dale says. 

 

“Completely possible,” Will Scarlett says. Alan makes a face at him and Robin laughs. 

 

“Perhaps she won’t care,” he says. 

 

“More likely that she will,” Will Stutley says. “And then everything we’ve worked for, everything we’ve built--down the drain.”

 

Robin feels that like a punch to the gut--he knew he was taking a risk with Marian, but they haven’t talked to anyone new in so long, and he loves to irk the sheriff, and--guilt washes over him and Little John puts his arm around him, probably reading his mind as usual.

 

“This conversation is pointless,” Little John says. “We should all get to bed, and in the morning we’ll feel better.”

 

“If you say so,” Arthur-a-Bland says. He whispers something to Will Stutley and they both get up and leave. 

 

Alan-a-Dale downs his drink and stands up. 

 

“Tomorrow I’m going to town,” he declares, and he, too, retreats into the night. 

 

All that’s left is Robin and Little John, and across from them, Will Scarlett and David. 

 

“Are you sure it’ll be alright?” David asks, and Robin sees Will squeeze David’s hand. 

 

“Course it will,” Will says. “I’ll protect you.” 

 

David smiles shakily, and Robin says, “It’ll all work out fine. You’ll see.”

 

“I sure hope so,” Will says, and he stands up, taking David with him. 

 

“We still have to put out the fire,” Robin says. He’s still leaning on Little John and doesn’t particularly want to move. 

 

“Yeah,” Little John says. He squeezes Robin. “Cheer up. You didn’t make a bad decision. Marian probably needs this as much as we do. You’ll see. Soon she’ll be galavanting with Meg and competing with Alan for the ladies’s attention.”

 

Robin laughs. 

 

“I’m not sure if we should  _ want  _ that to happen.”

 

“Maybe she’ll shack up with Alan himself! That’d be something, huh?” 

 

“ _ Definitely _ don’t want that, either,” Robin says, and Little John laughs, which is Robin’s favorite sound in the world. 

 

“We need to put out the fire,” Robin says, and Little John says, “We sure do,” but still, neither of them move. 

 

Eventually they will, then they’ll go up to bed in their shared treehouse and fall asleep tangled together, but for now they just sit, watching the fire die. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It Only Gets Gayer From Here
> 
> also:  
> to be clear: Alan-a-Dale is really really bisexual & flirts w anything that moves


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if these last few chapters seem shorter--the spacing in my document got all screwed up & i'm really confused on length now. whatever. hope you enjoy!

Robin wakes up before the sun. 

 

He half-sits, supporting himself with his arms, and he stares at the sleeping face of Little John. He could stare at Little John’s face forever, he’s sure. 

 

Instead of staring for much longer, however, he leans in and brushes a kiss across his nose, then his lips. Little John stirs and Robin reaches his hand up to push his hair from his face, and John catches his arm when he tries to draw it back. 

 

“Mornin’,” Little John murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. 

 

“Good morning, love,” Robin whispers, and John pulls him down closer. 

 

It is a few minutes before they separate, and when they do Robin makes a half-hearted attempt to tame his hair before he climbs down the ladder, Little John right behind--or above, in this case--him. 

 

Robin hops onto the ground and heads to the firepit; he’s slightly surprised to see Marian before he remembers the events of the previous day.

 

She’s watching him and Little John with narrow eyes, and Robin wonders if she’s picked it up yet. 

 

“Good morning, Marian,” Robin says, settling by the firepit. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Fine, I suppose,” Marian says, her voice slightly sour. “Forgive me, I’m not used to sleeping in trees.”

 

“You’ll have to be if you want to stay here,” Robin says, aware of Little John listening in as he starts to make breakfast. 

 

Alan-a-Dale comes down from his tree and saunters over to them; he lifts Marian’s hand and brushes a kiss across it. 

 

“My lady,” he says. “I am heading to the town today. But just say the word, and I shall stay!”

 

Marian draws her hand back and says, “I don’t care what you do.” 

 

Alan isn’t hurt by this; he laughs and retreats, saying, “I’ll be back in the morning!”

 

Robin can’t help but laugh at the look on Marian’s face. Little John leans towards Marian and says, “He flirts with  _ everyone,  _ don’t worry, miss.”

 

“Right,” Marian says.  “Of course.”

 

David comes and settles on his rock. 

 

“Where’s Will?” Robin asks, and David says, “He’s still asleep.”

 

“Do you all share rooms?” Marian asks. Robin and Little John exchange a look. 

 

“No,” Robin says. “Alan-a-Dale has his own, and Friar Tuck did before you got here.”

 

“Why didn’t they share?” Marian asks, and David sniggers. Robin is tempted to do the same, but instead he says, “For privacy.”

 

“Don’t you guys want privacy, too?” Marian asks, and Robin wonders if she’s being purposefully obtuse. 

 

“Privacy has nothing to do with it,” Robin says, and Marian looks confused. She doesn’t ask for an explanation, though. Instead she clears her throat and says, “How much storage do you have?” 

 

“Alan’s treehouse and we have a storage one, as well. Why?”

 

“I’m just wondering if I could get my hands on some other clothes,” Marian says. “Arthur-a-Bland said something about trousers? And I’ll need wrappings for my monthlies.”

 

Robin is surprised that she can talk about her monthlies without blushing. Most women he’d encountered--excepting Meg--blushed something awful when it was brought up. 

 

“Talk to Arthur about clothes, then,” Robin says. “And talk to David about the monthlies situation.”

 

“David?” Marian repeats, and David says, “I’ve got it covered, miss.”

 

Marian casts an uncertain look at David, and Robin prays she won’t ask. 

 

Little John hands everyone bowls of breakfast, and Robin digs in. 

 

Everyone else follows suit, and Robin breathes a sigh of relief. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end of the quick foray into robin's pov--we'll probably be back, though

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments /kudos always appreciated!


End file.
